Meadows of Heaven
by Min Daae
Summary: Renly/Loras, again. Not cheerful, again. There might be vaguely unhealthy things about this relationship.


Dead?

_No. _

Loras refused to believe it. He flung himself to his knees beside the body of his king and tried to close the wound in his throat with his hands, tried to bring the skin and flesh back together, will the blood he knelt in back into its master's body. It was futile, and he only succeeded in drenching himself in blood that would not stop flowing.

His eyes were still open, wide with surprise. He couldn't look away from them, couldn't keep himself from staring in horrified almost fascination. Not dead. He was not dead-

_I love you, Loras said, young and passionate and just barely squired, and Renly laughed, tipped his head up and murmured, wait to know me a little longer, boy, before you decide that, and kissed him open-mouthed. He might have taken it as a warning. He took it as a promise. _

_Renly favored him, he knew that; Renly kept him when he sent away all others, let Loras stay by his side. I trust you, he would say, I know, Loras, that you would never breathe a word of my confidences… _

He hadn't, he never had. But he hadn't been there, either, to die for his King in saving him, had failed his lord's confidence. Renly's ghost towered in disappointed wrath over him, watching him as he knelt, shoulders shaking, to draw Renly's dark head into his lap, fighting not to weep with the anger and the frustration.

…_I will not, he promised, I would never betray you, my lord, not your confidences, and Renly would smile and touch his jaw lightly, carelessly, in the way that made Loras shiver just a little. And alone, at night, he thought of that touch sliding down his chest and along his belly and stroked himself to quiet, helpless climax, humiliation burning in his cheeks and unhappy lust squirming in his belly._

_He dreamed of seducing Renly, sometimes, or being seduced, hot and heady dreams that left him whimpering with need, but he knew, he knew…_

Renly had trusted him, loved him, been everything to him – a lover, a brother-in-arms, a mentor, a god – and he could not be dead, he simply could not – Loras could not have allowed it. It was a failure of such monumental proportions that he could not comprehend it, could not make it make _sense, _they should have had years and with his sister as Renly's king no one would have asked questions-

He did not think of his sister, a widow; did not think of the war they had lost. All he could think about was the way his king's blood felt sticky drying on his hands, and how the sun rising in the east didn't seem to cast any warmth.

…_knew that Renly must never know. But he did, and one night with the red wine sweet on his breath Renly did more than kiss him, and brought him to bed and took him in the same fierce and hungry way he fought his battles, his insatiable lust for life, and Loras cried out and _cried out _with the pain and joy of it, and that night it was another man's hands who brought him off, and he shuddered and whimpered in helpless relief. _

_I have – I have wanted you for months, Loras said, shyly, after, and Renly laughed low and rich, and said I have wanted you since tonight, Loras, is that good enough? And Loras blushed, feeling heavy and drunk, and…_

He stood on shaking legs and stumbled out of the tent. He felt hungover, his head pounded, his muscles ached. He remembered nothing, didn't remember killing the two men he stumbled over. He staggered through the camp, feeling clumsy and awkward, not turning aside, found the small chapel he'd prayed at yesterday, for victory, for good health, for protection for his king.

Loras fell heavily to his knees. Renly had come to find him here and laughed at his prayers, smiled indulgently before undressing him and taking him against the altar with the same ferocious want that all their lovemaking had, and Loras had muffled his cries against his lover's shoulder so as not to call attention, and been frightened that they would be found, but what Renly wanted, Renly got –

And now he was dead. He had been so alive then, and even if Loras could still remember the way Renly'd felt inside of him he would never know it again.

…_said it doesn't matter, nothing matters except you, I love you, and Renly kissed him again and told him to turn over, please, he wanted to take his lover again, and that word made Loras feel more relieved than he had to come. _

_He obeyed. He always obeyed, no matter what. Renly never asked too much of him; Renly never could. And Loras knew Renly slept with other men, took other lovers, though he never spoke of them, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered, because… _

Loras dropped his face into his hands and fought to keep from weeping. His lover his king his mentor his friend his lord-

Who would have done this, who but her, who but her-!

"Witch!" He cried, stumbling to his feet. _"Whore!" _Renly had trusted her, more even than Loras to let her prepare him for this most important of combats, and he had been wrong – if he'd trusted Loras, he would still be alive.

But he was not alive.

Loras spun and bellowed in a voice that promised vengeance, letting the anger fill him and leave nothing else, let his voice rise and carry so she would hear it across the miles she had covered since her hideous murder-

"BRIENNE!"

…_because Renly always loved him best. _


End file.
